Bleeding
by angelwingprincess
Summary: They've had years together, but it always lingered just out of sight. When it caught up with them it brought an ending neither had wanted and everyone had hoped to avoid. When the one you love is lost to themselves, will you follow them into the dark? (Inspired by the song Bleeding Out by Imagine Dragons) SquallXRinoa


Time. It means so little to them anymore. In this world where her eyes can no longer focus on the present and he is the only thing standing between her and the madness, where their pasts blend with their futures and her whispers are more like screams in his mind. He knows that this has to end, knows his duty is to end her suffering…. But how, when he's sure that life without her would be worse than this.

She has moments of clarity too. Moments where she knows what day it is and she'll be happy. He likes those days. They can sit on the beach and her eyes light up as she talks of things like nothing is wrong, her smile bright and raising hope into his soul.

He can't remember the last time they sat with their friends. Where they are. What they're doing. Some internal clock tells him that it has been a month, but alone and broken as they are he thinks it feels more like years.

He watches her hair beat in the wind and tries to commit to memory every strand, every movement, that hint of a wrinkle from her so often smiles. But when he gets to her eyes there is something there that he falters.

Golden.

He blinks and feels as though his thoughts are thick. No. He is blending nightmares with reality again. She's fine. They're fine.

 _'Squall…..'_

Her eyes are brown, warm and kind. They hold laughter and innocence. Mischief and cleverness. Passion.

And love.

 _'Hold on… Please'_

He grasps her hand and twines his fingers with hers. The familiar warmth, the underlying current of her magic humming in her blood. Forever the reminder of her fears. Of what she could be.

Of what she is.

His memories are jumbling again. Blending as her magic play with time like an instrument and tugs them through its currents. He is in her arms, his head in her lap as flowers and feathers swirl overhead. This is the turning point for them, he thinks. When he had nothing left in that desperate place and her name was on his lips, her face in his thoughts, when he thought himself dead. He had thought she was an angel, a figment of his final thoughts to ease him in death.

For that was what she was. An angel.

It's gone and in its place he has a blurred image of her face hovering over him, her eyes flickering between that beautiful brown and tormented gold. She's crying and his heart aches, her tears always making him wish he could change the world to keep them away.

He lifts his hand, black leather cupping ivory skin, his thumb brushing away her tears only for more to take their place. He wants to ask what has upset her. He longs to tell her it will be okay. Whatever it is, he'll always be here to help. But something is keeping him from speaking. His body is heavy.

 _'I'm sorry….'_

Her lips don't move but he hears her voice without trouble. Their bond, strengthened by their love and their years together, makes words unneeded. He knows she heard his thoughts, knows she sees the question in his eyes, but she doesn't answer.

It's then that he notices the blood that has smeared where his thumb had been wiping at tears. When his gaze focuses on that he remembers everything with too much clarity, all of it rushing as she tries so hard.

She was always trying so hard.

 _'Rin…'_

It's with sorrow and agony that he whispers her name, with both lips and thoughts. This is the most horrible of endings. The guilt alone of what has been done will tear her apart, thrust her into that madness so fast that all of the steps and safeguards they've done will have never mattered.

He should have been better.

Her eyes settle for a moment. A beautiful brown with a ring of gold, as she tries to keep herself from that edge. The fact that she is not using her magic, her essence, to try and save him tells him that he is too far gone.

He doesn't have long.

She knows and she hiccups, her tears coming harder as one hand reaches to clutch his, holding it in place at her cheek. There are no more words needed. No goodbyes. He knows that this can't go on. Without him…. She would endanger the very world they once saved.

Without her…. He is nothing.

He remembers the moments before and cannot find it in him to regret his actions. Lost was the woman he had loved, the magic inside her having taken her will and left him torn. He had promised once, to end it if it had gotten this far. But he couldn't. Instead he'd fallen back on an older promise made among flowers and sea air. He had stood against them all. For her.

He doesn't remember who had gave him the actual final blow, only that when he had went down her senses had returned when she felt his pain. She had come back to herself. Back to him.

 _'I can't… I can't, Squall….'_

He struggles to smile, to show her it's okay. He has never believed in gods or heaven, but he knows that with her he will find peace. Alive or gone, he can be happy if she is by his side. And he knows, as much as she, that she will follow him shortly after. Their bond is too strong for one to be without the other.

A love bird does not go on without its mate.

"I love you, Rinoa." His voice is tired but he cannot bear not to say it. To make her understand that he has never stopped. Never will.

She nods. Her tears break in a small laugh as she still finds happiness in those few words. In the silence of his last moments he wishes that their story had been different, that they could have ended this easily and been on a porch enjoying their old age, with grandchildren and friends surrounding them.

Perhaps that had never been an option for them.

He feels that rush of magic surge through her and thus through him. She's trying to spend herself, to let it go and try to force her magic on. He wants to tell her to stop. To live. But he knows it is futile.

In moments it feels as though a weight is lifted. His eyes are closed, though he doesn't remember closing them. A breeze tickles across his face, his hair shifting and the wind bringing in the familiar scent of sea air.

"Come on sleepy head!"

That voice, her voice, wakes him as he blinks to clear his vision. She is above him, looking down with a smile and her hand stretched to offer him help up. Laughter sparks in her brown eyes and he sits up, taking her hand in his, gloves gone and her skin soft and warm against his own. He feels a smile curving his lips as he watches her, her hand tugging him to rise. She's insistent, and impatient.

"Let's go!"

As he stands, he pulls her to him and lets his fingers brush at the hair trailing over her shoulder.

"Where?"

He asks but it is mere formality. He would follow her anywhere.

She smiles and twists out of his arms, planting a kiss on his cheek. She entwines her fingers with his and tugs him until he is walking with her.

"Home, Squall. We're going home."

* * *

Quistis stands in the remnants of the old orphanage, the field of flowers still the same. Yet now, sections closest to the orphanage bloom all year long. He magic, keeping them alive in a constant reminder of what she used to be. As the breeze trickles by she imagines she can here her friends laughter still, the tinkling of Rinoa's voice accompanied by the low chuckle of Squall.

They had been happy... At least for a while. She comforts herself knowing this. Knowing that with each other they may finally find the peace that seemed to forever elude them.

Beside her are their friends, those who knew with certainty who they had been before the end. Those who would miss them.

The rest of the world may only remember the final days of chaos and fighting. But she will remember the laughter. The strong and stubborn hearted girl who blossomed into a young woman, always thinking of others. Of the quiet and introverted young man who had grown into a leader and role model, confident in his abilities.

She remembers how they wanted to change the world. All of them.

And she will continue to remember all of the good times before she watched them lose themselves to a curse beyond their control.

These flowers and this field, those should be their legacy. The beautiful, fragrant blossoms a reminder of the souls that should have had more time. That should have had better.

If no one else remembers, Quistis will never forget.

Just as she will always remember the way they looked just before they lost them forever. Together, they had greeted their end with tears and smiles, and taken comfort from each other. She hopes that wherever they are now, that it is better.


End file.
